


one day like this a year would see me right

by ericdire (aarobron)



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: M/M, Super Cup, we love trophies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-09-24 03:16:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20351473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aarobron/pseuds/ericdire
Summary: His tongue slides against Jordan's and it's all he can do to hold on and take it, working his hands free and curling his fingers around Virgil's biceps, tilting his head back. He wants to stay like this forever, exchanging tired, soft kisses with the man he loves, but he knows that someone could very easily walk around the corner and catch them - moment ruined, and if it's Ox again, probably spread throughout the dressing room in seconds. Last time, the lads wouldn't let them live it down for weeks.





	one day like this a year would see me right

**Author's Note:**

> hi! something short and sweet, to celebrate the ever so satisfying victory over chelsea. sweet, sweet victory (and another trophy). 
> 
> apologies for any spelling or grammatical errors, i wrote this on my phone, by the pool, in greece. the best place to write if im being honest
> 
> happy reading! feedback loved and appreciated xx

Jordan is really starting to get used to lifting trophies now.

It's a dangerous thought, really, because he knows about the disappointment that comes with it, but tonight, he's decided that doesn't matter. He's felt the cool metal of a trophy against his palms for the second time in three months, traced _L-I-V-E-R-P-O-O-L-F-C_ with the tips of his fingers again, and best of all, he gets to celebrate it with the people he loves most.

The dressing room is still buzzing even though it's almost three in the morning; everyone is still jumping over Adrian, calling him their hero, and the whole squad has been squished together for what feels like thousands of group photos. They should be exhausted, given the late hour and the humidity making their limbs heavy, but the pure exhilaration of the win is still pumping through their veins.

Tonight's win has washed away the bitterness of losing the Community Shield, and Gini's shoulders seem a little lighter, smile a lot more real now the weight of his ill-fated penalty has been lifted. They did it, fair and square. The whole team took it to Chelsea, and took it to them hard, and the hard work paid off.

Champions of Europe. _Super_ champions of Europe.

Jordan's had half an eye on Virgil all night, worry disguised as bile rising up his throat when he saw the younger man go down on the pitch. He's still hobbling, a little unsteady on his feet, but when Jordan cornered him and asked, he just smiled, said he was tired and a little shaky from playing extra time in the heat.

He knows he doesn't need to be worried - Virgil is as strong as they come, both physically and mentally, and it takes a lot to put him on the sidelines for a few games - but his heart doesn't seem to listen to logic. Virgil played the most minutes of them all last season, and he must be exhausted, even if he doesn't show it.

He has noticed Jordan's concerned little looks, though. At first he just smiled reassuringly, combing his fingers through Jordan's hair every time he passed, and then he started pulling faces, sticking his tongue out playfully, just to make Jordan laugh.

It worked.

The worry has eased a little. The physios aren't concerned and he hasn't even had any minor treatment, and he's standing taller, stronger, with every sip of water he takes, but _still_. Jordan loves him, all of him, the bones and the spirit and everything in between, and that means he's allowed to worry - even if Virgil doesn't like it.

"Hey," he says, curling his fingers around Virgil's wrist and dragging him into a quiet, empty corner. The shouts from the dressing room are still echoing around, but Jordan only has eyes and ears for Virgil, and Virgil's gaze has focused entirely on him. "Are you sure you're alright? Do you need an ice pack for your knee?"

Virgil smiles, rolling his eyes as he shakes Jordan's grip from his wrist and tangles their fingers together instead. "I'm okay, I promise," he says. He sounds exasperated, but in a fond way, like maybe he wouldn't put up with it from anyone else but Jordan is special. One of a kind. "What about you? You look tired, Jord. We should start winding things down."

"I'm okay," Jordan repeats, half mocking Virgil's own words, but the younger man just rolls his eyes again and presses Jordan further back into the corner, crowding him in a way that makes his head spin. "Don't want to wind things down. I want to live in this feeling forever."

"You will," Virgil says confidently. He circles the fingers of his free hand around Jordan's other wrist, really pressing him back against the wall now, and lowers his voice, tone serious. "Because you're a great captain, cap. We're gonna win loads more trophies with you leading us. It's written in the stars."

And then Virgil leans down and kisses him, soft and slow, movements tinged with tiredness. His tongue swipes lazily across Jordan's lower lip and he sighs, the most content sound that Jordan's ever heard.

His tongue slides against Jordan's and it's all he can do to hold on and take it, working his hands free and curling his fingers around Virgil's biceps, tilting his head back. He wants to stay like this forever, exchanging tired, soft kisses with the man he loves, but he knows that someone could very easily walk around the corner and catch them - moment ruined, and if it's Ox again, probably spread throughout the dressing room in seconds. Last time, the lads wouldn't let them live it down for weeks.

Virgil seems to read his thoughts, connected to the tiniest detail, and pulls away with a little hum, thumb catching at the corner of Jordan's mouth as he darts forward to press another quick peck to his lips. It's like he can't resist, and Jordan knows exactly how he feels. He's never wanted anyone as much as he wants Virgil. It makes the tips of his fingers ache, forcing himself to not reach out and touch.

"Love seeing you lift trophies," Virgil murmurs, resting his forehead against Jordan's. Their mouths brush as he speaks, and his eyes are so dark, glittering but serious, that Jordan feels spellbound, breath hitching in his chest. "Makes me shiver. It's so fucking sexy, Jord."

Something twists, deep in Jordan's chest, and he brushes the pad of his thumb along the soft hairs on Virgil's forearm. True to his word, there's goosebumps scattered over his skin, and Jordan stares down at them in wonder. It's all for him, this side of Virgil. Nobody else gets to see it. Nobody else makes him feel like that, and he whines, low in his throat, surging up to kiss Virgil again.

He's too tired to be ashamed of how needy he's being, just wants to curl himself around Virgil and never let go, so he opens his mouth on a sigh, winding one arm around Virgil's neck and reaching up on his tiptoes. There's not even an inch of space between them now, chests pressed together and hips aligned, and Jordan brings his free hand between their bodies. The backs of his knuckles graze against Virgil's dick, half hard in his shorts, once, and then twice; again and again until Virgil breaks the kiss with a gasp.

"Later," he whispers. His voice is rough, hoarse from holding himself back, and he catches Jordan's wrist and brings his hand up to rest on his chest instead, right over his heart. "We can celebrate later. I promise."

"Spoil sport," Jordan says, pouting slightly. Still, Virgil's cheeks are flushed and his mouth is kiss swollen and pink, so he knows that he wants it just as much as Jordan does. It feels slightly better knowing that they're going to suffer together, at least. And it does make a change for Virgil to be the responsible one out of the two of them.

"Spoilt brat," Virgil shoots back, but he's rolling his eyes and his face is twisted up into a warm, fond smile, and he curves his palm around Jordan's cheek, pressing soft, dry kisses to his lips every other second like he just can't help himself. "I love you."

"I love you, too," Jordan says, dragging it out with a long suffering sigh, flinching away with a laugh when Virgil pinches his side. He pulls Virgil back in for another kiss, knowing he's being selfish, keeping him away from his teammates and friends after such an exciting victory, but for once, he can't quite bring himself to care.

It's hard to care about anything when Virgil's kissing him like he's the only thing that matters.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr @ [georginiwijnaldum](https://georginiwijnaldum.tumblr.com/) xo


End file.
